Communication
by TheBeautifulStuff
Summary: Soundwave really misses spoken Cybertronian.
1. Chapter 1

Soundwave missed Cybertronian, the language of his race. Human languages were so limiting. They were crude, designed for maximum physical effect on the recipient for good or ill. No subtleties, very animal-like in their nature and creation, they nonetheless evolved from grunts to crude attempts at poetry and literature; while sub-par compared to the works of Cybertron, there was often deeper meaning in the work in question, to the surprise of the communications expert.

However, as soon as Soundwave comprehended the languages, he refused to speak them. There was no need. Any new information to impart could be displayed across his face mask.

He watched in dismay as fewer and fewer Decepticons spoke the ancient tongue, preferring the inadequacy of twenty-six letters (give or take a few), and deserting what he felt was a major part of their culture. Cybertronian was not one single language- there were several dialects for each major region of Cybertron, and Kaonite Cybertronian, guttural and harsh, was the original language of protest against the reigning powers. When Megatron himself seemed to have forgotten the Cybertronian language of their heritage, speaking in that blasted English, Soundwave withdrew from the company of others. Never a talkative bot to begin with, the mech now refused all communication with anyone but Megatron.

But one night, while scanning the human frequencies for potentially useful information, Soundwave ran across a transmission of Cybertronian origin. His mask flickered in anticipation; there was always a chance it was more Decepticons finding their way to this new planet for battle.

The transmission was faint; Soundwave effortlessly boosted the signal and cleaned the sourcefeed until the words could have been spoken next to him.

"For all those mechs and femmes still not hearin' me, I pray that Primus preserves your spark until I transmit again." Soundwave listened to the simple words in awe. The speaker was, he deduced, of a smaller build than he, judging by the way his voice projected into the mike. Probably Kaonite in origin by that small vocal twang. Kaonite, like him. As he turned up the gain, static took over the signal; angrily, Soundwave smashed a servo into the platform in front of him, making two Eradicons cleaning equipment in the corner jump guiltily. He quickly traced the transmission signal and found it to be on Earth. His spark leapt, excitement sparking through his circuits.

His servos flew over the keys as he keyed in the frequency and transmitted back across it. "Unidentified signaler." He hesitated briefly, then pressed forward. "Your accent is of Kaonian origin. Explain your presence on this planet."

The reply came back almost instantly, the voice full of emotion and speaking fluent Cybertronian of the most beautiful kind. Soundwave set up a recorder to catch the mech's words almost instantly. This was a master of communications in his own right. "I am originally from Kaon before this war. Why? You sound like you were from there too. 'zat why you retraced my frequency?"

The typically silent mech stood silent for a moment, then replied simply, "Yes. I have not...I have not heard spoken Cybertronian in much too long. Your language structure is almost poetry in itself."

A bright laugh came over the signal. Soundwave felt his own faceplates, hidden securely under his face mask, begin to form a foreign expression of amusement. "Main machine, you are a flatterer. I'm just a comm expert separated from my comrades. You sound like you've missed real Cybertronian."

Soundwave noticed the expert deflection of his original question, that of his reason for being planetside, but he could not just return to his original inquiry without being rude. "It has been difficult. Human languages are extremely limiting."  
The mech made a small sound of agreement. "Couldn't agree more. Somethin' about Cybertronian is so much more compelling. More close to music."

"But was music not our first form of communication?" Soundwave replied, suddenly much happier than he'd been in a long time. "And it is indeed close to spoken Cybertronian even still."

"That it is, m' mech. Gotta go, have a shift in a joor. Nice talkin' to ya. 'Til all are one."

And the mech was gone, with Soundwave staggering back from the frequency modulator, staring at the machine in a mixture of terror and shame.

The speaker had been an Autobot.

Worse, Soundwave had spoken to him, and had not tried to access any information, not even a location! It was incredibly embarrassing. He'd never hear the end of it if Starscream came into possession of the recording. But even worse than that, the Autobot had a weakness of his. There was a consolation, of course; he was not so idiotic as to give his designation over the air, but the recording had to be purged from the system as soon as possible.

A few quick keystrokes later and Soundwave had the sole copy in his possession. There was no way Starscream would get his grubby little servos anywhere near it.

Several days later, Soundwave was in his quarters, the place he spent the majority of his time when not on duty. Even the rec room was too much of an ordeal. The coarse human languages grated at his audios. He tried to time his trips so the fewest number of bots would be in the room. As soon as his energon was secure, he would flee back to his own quarters.

Sitting on the berth, legs tucked comfortably under him, tentacles finally allowed a chance to remain free as their presence tended to upset Eradicons, Soundwave stared at the data disk from the...Autobot.

Strange. It was hard to think of him as an Autobot. Kaonian kept superimposing itself over the image of the hated symbol mentally. At night, the mech had begun to appear in his recharge. Sometimes appearing with that red symbol painted proudly on the chest. And Megatron urging him to fire. Those were nights he would wake up, exventing hard. It had been almost a fortnight since he had been in contact with the mech.

Soundwave came to a decision. Later, he would look at his actions in shame and embarrassment. What other than pure idiocy drove his actions? Tuning into the frequency of the Autobot once again, he sent a brief message asking for a meeting. Nothing spectacular.

After all, this was to gain information. There was no other purpose than to recover from the mistakes he had made previously. What other reason would there be?

Soundwave landed and transformed noiselessly. He cut an imposing figure in the twilight of the day, sun setting behind sandy cliffs. Standing stock-still, he waited, his internal chronometer marking just how late the other bot was.

A ground bridge opened up less than a mile away; Soundwave tensed, wrist rockets arming automatically. A mech, built smaller than him but larger than the two-wheeler Autobot, somersaulted out of the green fire, hefting a sonic cannon threateningly towards him.

"Get out of my way, mech. I don't like it when cons crash my recruiting parties."  
The larger mech choked slightly. Recruiting party? This was an attempt to draw him to the Autobot side? What inanity was this? And he was speaking in that human language, too. Soundwave lowered his wrist cannon, speaking in his Kaonite dialect. "Do not fire. I have no argument with you. I wish to speak to the one from Kaon, who sent out a transmission several joors ago. He was supposed to be here almost three breems ago."

"From Kaon?" the other said slowly, in English, then shifted almost immediately to Kaonite Cybertronian. "I hail from Kaon." He lowered the sonic weapon wonderingly. "You're the mech who contacted me."

Soundwave resisted the urge to roll his optics; the other mech would not see the obvious insult anyway, hidden as they were behind his mask. "Yes. Now. You are an Autobot?"

This time, the mech did roll his optics. "Yeah. Big red symbol on my chest mean anything? And obviously you're Soundwave." His voice lost its edge, becoming a little more gentle. "Didn't know mean ol' Decepticons got lonely too."

Soundwave folded his arms. "They do not. I do not. I merely seek...real conversation. This human slag is rotting their processors."

The smaller mech suddenly smiled, and Soundwave felt almost overwhelmed by sheer beauty. Intellectual pursuits aside, this mech was attractive. Built on a frame designed to fold into a Cybertronian racer, the mech's red and yellow paint job accentuated custom-built speakers and set off the crystal blue optics, now glimmering at him with laughter. "Like what you see, Soundwave?"

The communications expert exvented harshly. "Yes. No. I must return to base. This was a poor choice on my part."

"Hey, don't go," the Autobot protested, taking a hasty step forward. "Not yet. You're the first Kaonite I've seen in three thousand vorns, Soundwave. That's a long time to wait. Long time since the aerial bombings."  
Soundwave bowed his helm at the mention of the fate of his region. "We are here. This is now. We must move forward. You are an Autobot. I am a Decepticon. Whatever similarities we may have had are now gone."

The mech placed a gentle servo on Soundwave's arm plating; the larger mech stiffened momentarily, but overcame his initial reaction. "Exactly. We're here, and this is now. We don't have to be Autobots and Decepticons right now. We can just be Cybertronians."

Soundwave looked at the mech. "You are saying I can trust you."

The red and yellow mech nodded fiercely. "Absolutely."

Soundwave smiled behind his face mask. "Then I must ask you your designation. You are obviously aware of mine."  
"No problem, my main machine," the small mech said, sunny smile once again beaming. "Th' name's Blaster."


	2. Chapter 2

2. Relationships, no matter what some say, did not occur overnight. There was no whirlwind of emotional trauma that came pouring out of a desolate Soundwave onto a caring Blaster. There was no great defection to one side or the other. There were no desperate crises and close calls to make, between being in the land of the living or joining the well of Allsparks.

Rather, there were intelligent conversations punctuated with comfortable silences. Blaster spent the half-joor after his regularly scheduled broadcast to speak solely to Soundwave every solar cycle or so. For his part, Soundwave never missed a message, even if he did not respond. His frequency modulators were able to tune in regardless to his position or actions at the time. Often, when he was off-duty, he would listen to the precious dialect over and over again, then take pieces of the symbols and re-record them in musical patterns, occasionally interjecting his own comments to add further depth to each piece.

The communications expert was shyly proud of his songs. One spoke of home and his longing for a place he could never again visit, another of his love for the ideals of the Decepticon cause and his distress that these goals seemed to have been forsaken for further bloodshed, another of his hopes for the future. Six months into the "conversations," as Soundwave mentally dubbed them, he began to imagine Blaster standing in front of him, crooning the syllables, dancing to his own voice. The yellow hips and smooth chassis design created odd feelings within the normally emotionless mech that he did his best to subdue.

Logic created several barriers between further contact than pure communication, Soundwave reasoned to himself. First and foremost was the faction divide. There was absolutely no way the Autobots would deign to listen to a mech like him, of his reputation, without serious negotiations first.

Then, of course, there was the fact that Blaster was smaller than he was. Frame types were not always physically compatible, no matter the affections of the two involved bots, and the brief look he'd gained when he'd made his embarrassing plunge forward, only to immediately draw back, had told him Blaster would possibly reach his shoulder standing at his full height, not something to inspire confidence.

Finally, there was the very real fear that Blaster would not like what he saw when Soundwave removed his face mask and revealed his tentacles. Soundwave had not done so since the war began; he barely remembered what lay underneath. The tentacles were for information-gathering, but if they upset the Eradicons, it was very possible they could upset Blaster too.

Alone in his quarters, he hesitantly fingered the left latch of his mask, then withdrew his servo almost immediately. No. Better to wait and be rejected rather than expect rejection to begin with. He ex-vented unhappily, stroking a servo down his own frame in embarrassment. To be honest with himself, it didn't matter whether or not he was to expect rejection after all. There was no way he could physically meet the other mech.

Megatron's (and he was increasingly regarding him as purely Megatron, with no precursor title, trying to compromise between Blaster's irreverent "bucket-head" comments and Starscream's obsequious flattery.) Eradicons and Vehicons swarmed the Nemesis. It was difficult enough getting energon without being noticed; to leave without notice was almost impossible. Oh, Knockout could manage it to participate in those barbaric racing games, but there were always credits crossing servos or other...methods of payment being given for certain mechs to look the other way. Soundwave shuddered. That was absolutely not an option.

A summons blinked on his HUD insistently; using learned optic movements, he opened the file and read it disinterestedly. Surprise of surprises, Dreadwing had stumbled across an Autobot vehicle and opened fire. No damages, no explanation of what happened. The mech stood and stretched, retracting his tentacles once again. Perhaps the Seeker's explanation of what occurred could shed some light on his reasons for the summons. For what other reason would he be summoned?

"A red and yellow mech, Lord Megatron. It was not a mech I am familiar with," Dreadwing insisted. "Of a Cybertronian build. This mech has not yet adopted a primitive Earth form."  
Megatron made a deep noise of displeasure. "A new Autobot." The warlord smiled, shark teeth clearly displayed, as his silent communications master stalked onto the bridge. "Hm. Ah, good. Soundwave. Have you picked up any chatter on the frequencies about new Autobot recruits?"

Soundwave, deigning not to speak, played back Megatron's message to him earlier: "_Inform me immediately of any new arrivals. New sparks are convinced more easily than hardened warriors."  
_Megatron rolled his optics irritably. "I take it there are no new recruits on either side."

"This mech was one I have never encountered! And his frame type was Cybertronian! There were subwoofers built into his paneling-"  
Soundwave froze. _"Subwoofers built in...subwoofers...sub-su-subwoofers..."  
_The leader leaned forward eagerly. "You have something, Soundwave? What is it? A mech we can win over, or one to be destroyed?"

_"Unknown parameters."_

The warlord hissed in exasperation. "So be it. Gather as much data as you can on this new mech. Perhaps he is like the medic and not a warrior at spark, preferring to watch others do the hard jobs for him. Do you know of him, Soundwave?" The warlord's optics missed nothing; the subtle drawing back of the shoulders, the servos curling into fists, were all signs of discomfort. Soundwave knew more than he was letting on.

Finally, Soundwave spoke, in Kaonian, of course. He would not sully his vocals with that filth the other two spoke. "Negative. Designation Blaster. Autobot...known to me before the war." A lie, but Megatron didn't need to know about their conversations.

Megatron sat back, mollified. "And can he be convinced of the Decepticon ideals?"

"Outcome likely negative. Predicted success rate 23%."

"I see." The warlord stood, coming down to meet the communications expert, then loomed over him, deliberately infringing into his EM field. "You, Soundwave, will be responsible for this one."

Soundwave's face mask reflected Megatron's faceplates perfectly, the gunmetal gray mech seeing a mirror image of himself. "Lord?" The uncertainty in Soundwave's voice was unmistakable; Megatron grinned.

"You will either convert him, or offline him, in the next decacycle. It makes no difference which you choose, but Pit help you if this Blaster becomes as effective an Autobot as you are a Decepticon," Megatron rumbled. "I suggest you deal with him soon."

Soundwave stepped back a step to bow jerkily before fleeing the bridge back to his quarters. Once safely locked behind his door, he released his tentacles and hugged himself, knees drawn to chest, spark fluttering unhappily. Why, of all mechs, would Blaster create this sort of emotional response from him? Megatron had ordered the elimination of countless mechs and femmes. It was of no concern to Soundwave's that this one be the next in line.

And yet, it did. Blaster was intelligent, a communications master in his own right. Clever, funny, a mech able to look at the most dark part of the world and still laugh about some part of it, some quirk of nature that even war could not eliminate.

"Oh, frag," whispered Soundwave miserably. "I hope this is merely infatuation." Because otherwise, if this was of the spark, Soundwave would not be able to lift a servo against him.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

"Absolutely not," rumbled Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots and chief liason to the human world they inhabited. "To strike in this way would completely dishonor the Autobot principles."

Agent Fowler slammed his hand onto the desk in front of him. "Dammit, Prime, we need to take every opportunity at our disposal to take down these 'cons. Sometimes we do stuff we don't want to. This is one of those times."

Miko stuck her hand in the air, interrupting. "Hey, bossbot, what do you mean by dishonor?"

Prime turned to regard her with cold anger smoldering in his optics. "Agent Fowler is recommending that we deploy a debilitating virus into the Decepticon mainframe. I do not believe it to be an appropriate course of action."  
"So we take down all the 'cons at once? Let's do it, Optimus!" the young Asian girl cheered. "We could kick their sorry skidplates!"

"But to attack in this way is entirely cowardly, Miko. It much better to approach from the standpoint of one willing to negotiate rather than to attack preemptively." Optimus Prime folded his arms, optic ridges lowering furiously.

The African-American agent folded his as well, staring the leader in the eye. "We tried negotiation, and those 'cons tried to take us out! Damn near killed us. I say we take this chance. It's a two to one chance we'll get past Soundwave's filters anyway."

Rafael piped up shyly, "I think I can help with that. Ratchet and I obtained a lot of information on the Decepticon mainframe security protocols. Maybe I can write you something."

"Rafael, that is not necessary. We will not be infecting the Decepticon database with any type of malicious file." Optimus glared at the agent, sinking down until his ridge met Fowler's hairline. "I will not compromise on this."

Fowler glared right back. "If you don't give me permission, Prime, I'll take this to the President. Sure as I know that freedom rings, I will use that back door your medic built in some way."

After a moment, the red and blue mech lowered his gaze, eyebrows knitting. "You leave me with no choice, Agent Fowler. I will acquiesce to your command, but under protest. I do not condone this complete disregard for life."

Fowler grinned. "About time."

Soundwave paced his recharge chamber restlessly. Five days had passed already and he had less than five more to remove the Autobot communications officer from the equation. Autobot communications officer...that was easier to contemplate. Names were much too personal.

His conversations with Blaster had ceased the second Megatron had assigned this mission. It was far too easy to form emotional ties, and he couldn't afford to do that. Not with an Autobot! Certainly not with his newest target!

The deep blue mech had released Laserbeak for data gathering, and the little drone had followed Blaster from a distance for three of the five days. Every day, Megatron demanded an intelligence report, and Soundwave wordlessly handed the warlord Laserbeak's data. It had worked for now, as Megatron had not read the fine print involved, namely including the words "remain at a distance" and "do not engage."

Soundwave released his tentacles once again, letting them relax slightly, when a frantic knock was heard at his door. Swiftly withdrawing back into his cold persona, the communications officer opened it to find a hysterical Knock Out. "Soundwave! Come at once! The Vehicons are collapsing in droves!"

Soundwave canted his head to one side in confusion. How was that his field? Knock Out sensed the uncertainty and babbled, "It's an external signal. We can't determine how it's gotten in, but it may be of Autobot origin!"

"_Lord Mighty Megatron?" _Starscream's voice grated from across Soundwave's speakers.

"Expecting you in the bridge!" Knock Out's vocalizer hitched in fear; typical. Soundwave nodded grimly. It was time to hear some explanations.

"Soundwave, I haven't heard from you f'r a while. I'm real sorry about what happened with the signal sent through to the mainframe."

Silence and static met Blaster's message. He sighed to himself. "I was in Washington getting my alt-form custom-fitted with some new technology. If I'd known, I would have tried my best to stop him."

More silence and a couple of hisses of static were the only responses he heard. The comm officer shut his optics tiredly. He had been attempting contact since Agent Fowler had flown into Washington crowing his victory. It had taken all of Blaster's self control not to test out his new tech on the agent right there. How could he?

A small beep made itself heard on the signal. Blaster turned up the gain, trying to hear it better; it resolved itself into a series of beeps in the human Morse code. Dit-dah, dah-dit-dah...Blaster listened, piecing it together.

"_Not your fault. You did not know. Must cease comms."_

The Autobot felt a bolt of fear race itself around his chest. "Why? F'r how long? Forever?"

_"Until mission is resolved. Respect you. Now you are my target, thanks to human decision."_

"Your target...? Whaddya mean-" A bolt of energy hit the mech's foot; he stared into the sky, entirely thrown off guard. A Predator drone streaked through the sky.

_"Warning shot. Run. Now."_

Faced with a choice of certain elimination on one hand or a possibility of escaping with his spark still intact, Blaster transformed and shot off with a screech of tires, leaving a streak along the tarmac.


	4. Chapter 4

Quick A/N: Thank you SO MUCH for the reviews and favorites and watches and whatnot, guys! I tend to write faster when I'm reviewed as I know I have an audience. Also, I am upping the rating to a solid M next chapter.

Blaster tore up the tarmac in the hot Jackson sun as he fled the silent Predator drone swooping above. It didn't help that he felt like he knew the other mech much better than he was supposed to. Soundwave had been a sort of target for a while, but not in the way Optimus had probably intended the orders.

The communications expert had spent orns simply talking to the other, trying to gather information without being overly inquisitive. The mech was no doubt attractive, even in voice and timbre. After a few questions towards the mainframe and intel in general, Soundwave had gently reminded him who he was dealing with and sent a line of painful static directly into Blaster's audials. He hadn't forgotten since then.

But why attack now? What happened to change the scale, the odds? Obviously the Autobots had instigated the fight, but the Decepticons had reacted many times in the past with far less ferocity. Blaster almost swerved as he realized what was different. While the Autobots and Decepticons, prior to his arrival, were almost evenly matched in many areas, the Autobots had no communications officer. He himself was the flaw in the equation.

Blaster tried once again to comm Soundwave privately. "Soundwave, any particular reason you're tryna blast me off the tarmac here?"

There was no reply; he honestly hadn't expected one. Still, he persisted. "I really enjoyed the conversations we had. I loved hearin' about your experiences in Kaon. I really loved your music-"

At the mention of music, a laser blast landed inches from Blaster's back tire. The red and yellow Ferrarri 458 Spider jumped a good few inches before accelerating past the 100 miles an hour mark easily. "Touched a sensitive node there, did I? Sorry. Didn't mean to antagonize the bot about to put a bolt through my spark." Another bolt lanced through the air, landing directly next to his front bumper. "Frag-! That was close!"

Soundwave shuddered in his alt-mode. Each time he had deliberately missed, and yet he was still much too close to injuring Blaster. Steeling himself, he sighted for the engine. If he could disable the engine without harming any other part of Blaster, he would be incapacitated and thus not competent for his job.

Then Soundwave recalled the orders given: _You will either convert him, or offline him, in the next decacycle. _If he had to offline the other...it could not come to that.

Suddenly, Blaster was furious. This decepticon was his friend, as much as he could call him one. They shared almost everything about their lives. How DARE he try to ruin their friendship? With a screech of brakes, he suddenly reversed and transformed into his root mode, standing directly under the startled Predator 2000 feet up.

"What the FRAG are you trying to do?" he yelled. "I spend orns and orns getting to know you and you turn around and try to shoot me? What the FLYING FRELL? You really wanna kill me? DO IT!" Blaster threw back his arms, exposing his glass chestplate. "One good shot'll end me right now! If you really wanna do this, then fragging DO IT."

After a moment of silence, interrupted only by Blaster's harsh exvents, Soundwave transformed in the air, landing heavily about fifty feet from the startled Autobot. He spoke quietly, the beeps and whirrs of Kaonite sounding almost delicate in the noise of the desert winds. "Not...my decision. I wish to follow orders."  
Blaster strode forward to meet him until they were almost nasal ridge to face mask. "What is your fragging problem? Orders are to take me out? Let me know, you stupid fragger! I know how to vanish! I've done it before! Could go undercover and come out a completely new mech in the space of half a breem. New paintjob, style, voice print, everything. My Kaon accent comes through usually, but there ain't no reason to suspect a mech based on an accent." Blaster fell silent as Soundwave shifted forward, looming over the more petite Autobot. After a moment of consideration, Soundwave spoke again.

"Could not eliminate. Tried. Spark...it is difficult to explain."

Blaster's optics widened. "Spark?"

Soundwave exvented, irritated. "Yes. Foolish Autobot. Somehow, you. Soundwave...attracted without explanation. Transmits into logic circuits as a DNF order."

"Do not fire..." Blaster mused, optics sparkling as he mulled over the normally taciturn mech's words. "Soundwave, you sayin' you're in love with me?"

"Negative. Affirmative. Soundwave...emotionless. Soundwave: killer."

Blaster reached out to touch the larger mech gently on the shoulder. "In the line of duty's one thing."

In an instant, Soundwave's arm shot up, wrist rockets arming automatically. "Yes. In line of duty. Should eliminate you on sight." Point made, he lowered the limb. "And yet, cannot."

Blaster looked at him in surprise. "Soundwave, my main machine...you are just full of surprises." Looking around, he suddenly realized where they were. "Uh. We should head off into the canyons a little way. Less attention that way."

Soundwave nodded, following silently on foot. There was nothing else to do.


	5. Chapter 5

5.

There was a cave both factions knew of in the rock of the desert cliff. Ratchet had hidden there at one point during a Decepticon attack, as had Starscream at a different point in time. The area was regarded as a neutral ground for the most part, and was deserted except in times of crisis.

Once in the cave, out of sight from potentially prying eyes, Blaster relaxed his shoulders, turning casually to the other mech. "Y'wanna sit down?"

Soundwave complied almost instantly, folding into a hunched posture that seemed as easily assumed as his alt-mode. Blaster sprawled himself on the rock next to him, feeling oddly at ease in the Decepticon's company.

After a moment, Soundwave spoke. "Blaster."

"Yeah?"

"Two things to show you. Then will act favorably or unfavorably after gauging your reaction," the dark blue mech rumbled quietly. With a slow, practiced motion, his tentacles slid from their usual places of concealment. The Autobot made no verbal comment, instead reaching a hand out to touch the feelers on one wonderingly. It trembled at the gentle contact. Soundwave coughed awkwardly, the caress sending warm signals to his abdominal plating. So far the mech hadn't shown any sign of surprise, let alone revulsion. Perhaps...

Soundwave placed a hand on Blaster's shoulder. "They do not bother you?"

"Nope. They're for passin' information, nothing more. They're dead useful too. Wish I had a few," the other said matter-of-factly. He eyed the ribbing along the appendage, seeing the flush of energon traveling just below the surface.

Soundwave glowed internally. Perhaps there truly was some compatibility between himself and the Autobot. "Something else to show you as well."  
Blaster scooted closer until his hip was touching the larger mech's. "Go ahead. If you're talking about Laserbeak-"

Soundwave cut him off with an upraised hand. "No. Not drone." Slowly, carefully, and sending one last scan to the skies above him, making sure they truly were alone, he removed his face mask, releasing the catches on one side with a hiss before proceeding to the next.

Blaster stood up to see his face and froze. Light violet optics, almond-shaped and delicately tilted, were large in a narrow face. The nasal ridge was not pronounced; a small mouth with thin lips, currently sealed tight, added character to perfection. Soundwave was absolutely handsome behind that mask. The red and yellow mech grinned. "Damn."

Soundwave's face plates only registered confusion. "You are not attracted? Human expletives are generally not accompanied with amorous intent."  
"Depends on where you're looking," purred the other, vocalizer dropping an octave. "I used it instead of 'holy frag you're absolutely gorgeous.' Saved time."

The mech really didn't know how to conceal emotions, Blaster mused, watching Soundwave's emotional spectrum shift from distress to irritation to bashful anticipation. He decided he liked that. It made the stoic communications expert seem much more alive, more than just the drone that the other Autobots dismissed out of hand.

"Blaster...interface amenable." The larger mech tentatively stroked the smaller mech's frame with a single servo.

Suppressing a shiver of pleasure, Blaster nodded, but still had to laugh at the way it was phrased. Soundwave moved to put his face mask back on, but Blaster held his wrist. "Nope. Keep it off." The smaller mech moved as if to stroke Soundwave's seams, but the Decepticon was faster. In one smooth motion, the red and yellow mech was dazedly on the other's lap. "Wha-" he began, but Soundwave cut off the question with a firm kiss to the lipplates. Blaster, after a moment of stiffness, reciprocated, loosening his jaw and trying his best to relax and encourage the other mech.

Soundwave drew back after a long moment, optics blazing with intent. "Blaster. Spike or valve mech?"

"I'm flexible, my mech," the other said lightly. "Which do you prefer?"

Soundwave considered the possibilities. "Difficult to say. Previous relationship was with mech similar to self. Tentacles were sufficient for external overload."

Blaster raised an optic ridge. "Well, I don't have any of those myself, but I'm very familiar with spike and valve. I'll try to make you feel good."

Soundwave offered him a shy smile. "Show me, please."

"Well, first thing, you've gotta relax," Blaster said gently. "Tell me what you want."

Instead of answering, servos with long fingers delicately traced symbols along Blaster's frame; he shivered, giving Soundwave pause. After a moment, a single feeler wound its way around the Autobot's abdomen, gently tickling and probing as it went, seeking the largest heat source.

"Frag-!" Blaster gasped. The Decepticon smiled to himself. Clearly enjoyment was for both parties, but for the moment, this casual teasing was almost as much fun as any physical interfacing. The red and yellow mech writhed in his lap, trying to increase the friction around his panel.

With an internal command, the tentacle withdrew, leaving the mech's engines whining. "S-soundwave-"

"Open your panel." There was no questioning tone in the larger mech's voice; the Autobot gulped and nodded frantically, complying instantly. The feeler moved lower again, circling the mech's most sensitive areas intimately.

"Stop teasing," Blaster begged, vocalizer crackling. "Primus, 'wave-!"  
If Soundwave was surprised or annoyed by the nickname, he made no outward demonstration of it. Instead, he smoothly inserted a feeler into the Autobot's valve, pulsing little tendrils of energy along its length. The mech was arching with pleasure, optics darkening as power surged through each tendril.

Slowly and carefully, Soundwave eased a second, then a third tendril into the mech's now-weeping valve. Thrusting smoothly, keeping each tendril just out of sequence with the others, the communications expert was surprised to see Blaster scream in overload only a minute or so after his first tentacle.

Panting hard, the red and yellow mech grinned up at the other. "You sure know how to show a mech a good time, Soundwave." Positioning himself, Soundwave smiled a little before withdrawing his feelers to stroke sensitive spots under the windshield and around the speakers. The other let out a small moan, optics flickering.

"Further stimulation acceptable?"

"Primus...absolutely, 'wave..."

The larger mech carefully laid the Autobot down on his back, flush to the floor, before slipping between Blaster's legs. "Please relax. Mutual pleasure desired."

Blue optics, darkened by lust, gazed up at him trustingly. "My mech, I'd follow you t' the pit and back right now..."

Soundwave allowed himself another small smile of victory before opening his panel. Blaster's optics followed the extension of the others' spike in half-amazement, half-anticipating pleasure. Without another word, the larger mech hiked Blaster's pedes up to his shoulders and pushed gently into his valve until he was fully seated. Sparing another glance at the Autobot's face to make sure everything was still pleasurable for him, the navy mech began to move. Slowly at first, then with increasing tempo and aggression, the two mechs gasped and connected in unison before withdrawing, only to begin the entire process again a second later.

"Babe, I'm gonna-" Blaster begged. "Gonna overload in a second-!"  
Soundwave's mouth was open as he reached his own climax, rumbling, "Proceed, lover." Whether it was the tone or the word choice, Blaster screamed and arched his spine back sharply in overload. Soundwave followed soon after, letting out a groan of release totally unlike his normal precise tones.

Collapsing next to the smaller Autobot, Soundwave smiled, a genuine, delicate smile. "Pleasurable?"

Blaster grabbed his shoulder and hauled him closer. "Incredibly," the red and yellow mech whispered. "It'd be a shame to let factions come between us at this point."

"Agreed." Soundwave, at that moment, did not care that he was a Decepticon, that they had just committed treason on both sides of the faction coin, or that their relationship would be difficult to maintain. He hadn't waited six million years to find someone this perfect only to have them be torn from him.

"Soundwave: emotional turmoil," Soundwave confessed softly. "Loves...Blaster."

The Autobot wrapped an arm around his waist in sympathy. "Believe me. Feelin' it too. We'll figure it out, though."

Soundwave wasn't sure how, but he'd fight to keep it that way.


End file.
